


A Lesson

by Ti_03



Category: Just Roll With It (Podcast), jrwi
Genre: Angst, mentions of cutting, trigger warning for some
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:08:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24674392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ti_03/pseuds/Ti_03
Summary: He learned the hard way.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 64





	A Lesson

**Author's Note:**

> Caution and trigger warning: there are mentions of cutting. It's not graphic, however please be aware that you have been warned.

Since the day he got them, he wanted them off. Br’aad picked and scratched at the purple markings running across his tan skin. If anyone cared enough, they could see the scars and scabs along the edges of the mistakes. 

The scratching became a habit for when he felt nervous. He would trace and scratch the tattoos as subtly as he could. “I’m just a little itchy.” He would say with a fake smile. 

He had begun growing his nails out and digging them into the skin, hoping to scrape them off. Angry, red scratch marks ran along his chest and arms and even his face. He didn’t care anymore. He was numb to it now. 

It would seem he had gotten the attention of his bastard deity. He was standing in a checkered floored room with mirrors along the walls. He could see the numb, pink lines going across his left cheek and arms. 

Ob’nockshai asked him, “Why bother?”

He didn’t answer. He scratched his arm again and looked away. 

“You don’t seem very satisfied with your new look.”

“I’m not satisfied with a lot of shit.”

The burning desire to get the purple disasters off ate at him. Br’aad was done with trying to scrape the purple tattoos with his nails. The others were beginning to ask questions. The half-elf smiled and said, “I must’ve gotten bit or something. Stupid bed bugs, am I right?”

* * *

He grabbed Sylnan’s daggers one night while he was on watch and the others were sleeping. It wasn’t easy taking the sharp blade from the older brother, but he finally was clutching the hilt of the dagger. Br’aad meticulously traced the blade along the edges of each tattoo, the dagger was barely pressed against his skin. 

The blond continued this for what seemed like an hour until he got bored and pressed too hard. He winced and drew it away, looking at the cut he made. It perfectly outlined a jagged purple mistake.  _ ‘I can cut it out.’ _ He thought, eyes widened with realization and hope. Br’aad stuck his tongue out as he continued to carve the shape of the tattoo with the dagger. Every time he wanted to cut deeper, he bit his tongue and continued making the shaking incisions. 

Blood dripped from his arm when he was done outlining. Carefully, he used the blade to try and lift up the skin. It wouldn’t budge and he bit his cheek and squirmed in pain. 

Br’aad kept the bloodied dagger and watched his brother look around frantically for his missing weapon. When Sylnan grabbed his shoulders, the blond sucked in a quick breath of air to suppress the yelp. “Did you take one of my daggers?” He asked. 

Br’aad shook his head. “Nope.” 

Later in the day, he was back in the checkered room but sitting at a long wooden table. Across from him was Ob’nockshai obnoxiously drinking tea. The deity tsked and shook his head at the half-elf. “Lying to your brother now? I thought you two shared everything.” 

“I’ll give it back to him.” He never did. 

* * *

No matter how deep he cut, the tattoos wouldn’t budge. He managed to cut one off the surface, but anger boiled inside of him when he noticed the purple pigment still there; just underneath the skin. 

Velrisa caught him trying to cut at his tattoos again. He cussed at her and she had no choice but to try and take away the blade. As they wrestled for the dagger, the others quickly took notice and Mountain grabbed Br’aad from behind and held him. The half-elf screamed and kicked. “I want them gone! I don’t want these anymore!” He would yell. Sylnan watched with horror. 

“Br’aad,” he tried to grab his brother’s kicking legs. “calm down, you’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Then let me.”

They couldn’t get him to calm down, so their only solution was to hold Br’aad until he tired himself out. The older brother volunteered to keep an eye on his little brother and they sat farther away from the rest. Sylnan rested his brother’s head in his lap and watched the flickering flame from afar. He then looked at the bloodied bandages they wrapped around the bleeding arms and his chest began to ache. “This is my fault.” He muttered to himself. 

“It wasn’t your fault, Sylnan.” Taxi assured him. “We shouldn’t start assigning blame.”   
“He’s my responsibility.”

“You didn’t know.”

“But I should’ve known.” 

Br’aad stood in that checkered room again. The black and white tiles were now stained with droplets of blood. Ob’nockshai stood a couple of feet away from him. “What a shame, really.” He said, rolling his sleeves up. The half-elf’s eyes widened when he saw the same tattoo markings on the deity’s right arm. They were leaking red and dripping onto the tile. “I guess you’re just not satisfied with everything I’ve done for you.” 

“What are you going to do? Punish me?” 

The deity shook his head and grinned, a shadow eerily falling over his face. “A punishment is too harsh, my boy.” He said, a large butcher knife appearing in Ob’s hand. “We’ll call this a lesson.” 

Sylnan awoke to screaming and crying. 

**Author's Note:**

> Go ahead, hate me. I deserve it.


End file.
